If Only I Could Explain
by cupcakekiller12
Summary: Dean and Sam They've faced vampires, witches, demons, ghosts, angels-but now they may face their most curious of all monsters. A little boy with the powers of an angel but yet has no memories of ever being one. As they sort of 'adopt' the boy, they learn more about him and begin to realize who he really is...but the question still stands. Who and what the hell is Dylan Young?
1. The Man In The Trench Coat

**Hey! New story! I've recently gotten back into Supernatural so I figured I'd do a story. I don't really know what season this is going to be in...I guess we'll figure that out in another chapter. So yeah...this story is dedicated to my late friend Jake Silva who passed away a day or so ago. And I don't own anything related to Supernatural, I only own my OC(s)-so enjoy the story and I'll see you at the end-cupcakekiller12 **

The summer day was perfect.

The sun was framed perfectly in the cloudless sky as the temperature wasn't too high or low. And because the day was so wonderful, everyone was out from their caves of video games and T.V whether they wanted to be there or not.

Mostly the younger kids stayed with their parents, some of them wondered but not far, and a few strayed halfway across the part chasing a butterfly or following a dog. But one, just one, a single boy-barely 9 at the most, sat on an old swing set at the far end of the park.

The swing set sat in front of a small forest that was home to many small animals and trails. It was mainly empty besides the boy himself, but he didn't mind. He liked the silence; since he was always around people who talked so much being by himself sort of relaxed him.

He wasn't alone though, his babysitter, Miriam-or Miri in the boy's case, was on a wooden bench staring at her phone scrolling through her Twitter feed, Facebook updates, or Instagram photos. She'd look up once every few minutes to make sure he hadn't run off or gotten hurt.

Miriam wasn't worried about her charge's safety or welling being because he's only like 9 or so it's not like he's going to runway or anything.

But as the boy looked out towards the other parts of the playground, there were three people who spiked his interest. There was a man who had short dark brown hair that could almost look black if you looked at it right. The man wore a khaki colored trench coat and a black suit with a long sapphire tie. He looked human but almost seemed out of place.

The child couldn't place the feeling-was it curiosity or uneasiness? He hadn't felt it before-maybe the feeling was just misplaced. The man can't be that bad can he-he's probably just watching over his sister's or brother's kid. But the boy wasn't the quick to shake off his hunch. He looked over towards Miri and waited for her to go back to her phone.

Quickly he ran to other playground and started climbing on the forest green metal. But the boy couldn't see the trench coated man was, all of the other kids were blocking his sight of view. _Where is he? _The boy wondered as he climbed on top of bars and slides, it wasn't until he climbed on the side of a metal covering that he regained sight of the trench coated man.

The boy sat there for a few minutes just looking. He never uttered a word, waved, or even asked attention. He was just there to see who this man was. It wasn't until the light hit the man directly that he saw something. The trench coated man's shadow wasn't like everyone else's-it showed a clear version of him and then what looked like…wings. Very large wings,

At first it baffled the boy-uncertain what to think he first thought it was a trick of the light but that man wasn't standing anywhere near the playground. He was in a spot where no object could distort his shadow. The only reasonable explanation was-

"DYLAN," screamed a teenaged voice, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?"

Miri's voice startled him for a moment-just enough to make him loose balance and scare him.

"GET DOWN FROM THERE!" She ordered, "I PROMISED YOUR MOTHER THAT I'D GET YOU HOME IN ONE PIECE!"  
Dylan sighed as he took one last glance at the man to memorize him and then he began his decent. He was ready to block out all or any lecturing from Miri because she always did this, whether he strayed to far, swung to high, climbed to much-she always has a reason to yell at him.

Getting down he felt her hand grab his wrist and started leading him out of the park, "Miri-"

"Don't start with me Dylan!" Miri barked as she grabbed her purse and his black and neon green Nike backpack, "I said don't wonder off and look what you did-"

"I wondered off." Dylan muttered as he took his backpack from her hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"Yes," she said, "and how many times have I told you not to wonder off?"  
"A lot," he informed.

"And you could have killed yourself on that thing!" Miri pointed out, "Did you see how close you were to falling? What if you did fall? What would I have said to your mother?"  
"You startled me." The boy retorted, "I would have been just fine."

"You should have been more careful!"  
"I don't see why you care." Dylan wondered, "You live to see me miserable anyway."  
Miri chuckled as they crossed the empty street, she didn't hate Dylan. In fact she loved him-in a sister-brother sort of way. She's been looking after him since he was a wee little baby. She was in charge of looking after him since his parents…aren't what they seem.

Dylan thought of Miri both as a snitch and an annoying person but also as an older sister. She was always there when his dad and mom wouldn't listen to him. And she always stopped him from doing stupid things-so he respected her-but he never told her that.

"But did you see him?" Dylan asked, "That strange man in the trench coat,"  
"No," Miri said, "What man?"

"The man in the trench coat," Dylan repeated, "he had wings!"  
The babysitter laughed, "No one at that park had wings; you idiot."

"But he did," Dylan insisted, "I saw them!"  
"You must've hit your head." Miri retorted, "Because you're seeing things."  
"He's an angel Miri," the dark brown haired boy stated, "I saw his wings when the sun hit him! He's an angel."

The blonde girl did believe him, she wanted to him but it was her job to make sure Dylan never got involved with the world he didn't need to know. Even though he will eventually know and have to face that world-he won't have to do it when he isn't even out of elementary school yet.

Miriam is a witch that was ordered to protect Dylan and against her better judgment she did. But of course Dylan didn't know that one day Miriam could just disappear on day out of the blue and be gone forever. Hopefully it isn't soon-but by the looks of his Sight, the days of being his friend are numbered.

"Do you even know his name?"

Dylan shrugged, "He's just a man in a trench coat Miri-I'm sorry I didn't get his life story."

When they reached his house, Dylan's parents were sitting on the porch talking to each other calmly. They held hands as they stared deeply into each other's eyes. To Dylan they seemed in love but the truth is the couple didn't exactly 'love' with each other. Both of them were soulless demons possessing human bodies and they both came here reluctantly and over time they came to like the circumstance. It was enjoyable not being hunted down by those Winchester boys and having a 'human' life. Dylan was the only they could agree on and if it were up to them-they'd never leave him or hurt him-but the monsters inside of them wouldn't let them keep up their clean record.

"Hey Dylan," his father said as he stood up, "how's it going?"  
"Dylan almost killed himself on the playground to look at some guy in a trench coat." Miri stated, "I swear I look away for one second and he disappears!"  
The father told Dylan to go in side but stayed with the babysitter to gain more details about this man in a trench coat.

"What 'guy in a trench coat Miriam?" He wondered.

"I don't know Diego." She retorted, "He kept insisted that the man was an angel but I didn't see any wings."

Out of anger and lack of self control the demon's eyes turned solid black as he stormed towards her, "What do you mean he saw an angel? He's not even 9!"  
"Calm down Diego; we're in a public place-anyone can see you." The girl informed as she looked around nervously, "Look I know that you care about Diego but if you want to keep him-you're going to have to keep you're anger low."  
Diego gritted his teeth as his eyes went back to normal, but just because his facial features didn't show his rage doesn't mean his posture hid it. Anyone could see his hand balled into fists and his chest moving up and down trying to control himself from lashing out, "Tell me you can fix this."  
"I can't," Miriam informed, "his abilites are past the point of hiding. Pretty soon he'll be able to-"

"Then wipe his memory!" Diego commanded out of desperation, "I can't have the only person who doesn't look at me as a monster turn on me."  
"I can't," the blonde witch repeated, "and if you aren't careful-that demon inside of you will take over."

The witch turned her back and continued walking in the other direction, "My days left here are numbered and so are you. Pretty soon we'll both either be in Hell or in the process of being killed-so I suggest you make the most of it while you still can Diego."  
**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Dinner was slightly tense, the demon couple had begun to loose control of their feeling…and not the good kind. All of their fury, wrath, and rage that they had locked away when they swore to protect Dylan; had begun to stir, and their 'son' could clearly see it in the way they ate their food.

Their forks and knifes were hitting the plates making loud clashing sounds as they ate. Their young eyes were filled with the inability to filter the anger and put on a smile for their scared son who was in the middle of their glaring war.

"How was your day, daddy?" Dylan wondered trying to ease the tension as he slowly ate his small side salad and half sized steak.

"Good," his father gritted through his teeth, his tone was sharp and uncontrolled.

"You ok dad?" Dylan asked as he cocked his head in a concern and worried way.

"I'm fine," he snapped back as he quickly took a bite of his steak like a wild animal.

The boy looked over towards his mother, "and you mom?"  
"I-I'm fine sweetie." She replied the same way his father did. Short, rude, and hasty.

Dylan could tell she was lying but didn't voice his concern-his parents often had days like this-like they were fighting something. Maybe inner demons…oh only how ironic that would be if he knew about his parents 'condition', but hopefully he'd grow up and leave before his parents he knew about his parents.

But at the looks of it…that's more of dream then a reality.

When it came time for bed Dylan heard a lot of yelling coming from his parent's room. At some points it seemed like they were just shouting random words just to yell. It scared him to hear them yell like that-he thought they loved each other. He had never seen or heard them scream at each other. Sure they had their fights like all married couples do-but not like this-not like they were going to murder each other.

And then it all went silent…too silent. It's like when the whole lunchroom just goes quiet-and you're trying to figure out why.

_What's going on?_ Dylan wondered as he nervously.

The door opened but there was no light illuminating behind the person. All Dylan could see was darkness, his trembling hand reached to the lamp beside him; it clicked and yellow light diffused through out the room. It was then he could see his mother with her long chocolate brown hair, delicately placed facial features, and…black soulless eyes that he didn't recognize.

"M-mommy," he stammered, "w-what's wrong with your eyes?"

A devilish smile grew on her face as she took a few steps closer, "Nothing sweetie,"

"W-w-why are t-they black?" The demon's adopted son stuttered.

"They've always been black." She informed as she encroached closer to him, "You've just been too stupid to see them."

"W-what," Dylan stuttered, "Mom-please stop this. This isn't funny! Mommy please-you're scaring me!"  
The frightened boy backed himself against the light blue colored walls of his room. He didn't know what to think at that moment-all the thoughts that ran through his head was _run_. But his mind wasn't connecting to his body, all he could do was press his back against the cold wall and star at the woman who had raised him just turn in a blink of an eye.

"Oh but that's the point sweetie," she said as the smile seemed to be more menacing and threatening then helpful, "it's ment to scare you."  
The woman's long arms swiped at be instead of hitting him, Dylan fell to the ground. He was in black flannel shirt and short khaki pants that went to his knees. His dark chocolate hair was messy and went in every direction. The boy's scared azure eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Even though the boy was young he knew when he was in danger, he knew that it was him or her but something in side him wanted stay. Something inside him wanted to help her but truly he knew that his mother was far beyond anyone's help.

Being small, quick, and nimble came at an advantage-he was easily able to escape the enclosed room that was blocked off by his black-eyed mother whom he knew was probably right on his tail.

Running downstairs he passed his father, his short auburn hair was messy and was scattered all over his face. The man was breathing hard and sweat built up on his forehead and showed dark spots of his grey t-shirt. It looked like he was trying to hold something back, but Dylan couldn't tell what.

"Dad," the son said, "something is wrong with mom!"

"I-I know son," he said as he gritted his teeth, "s-she succumbed to her demon far easier then I have." Diego took a deep breath before throwing a backpack at Dylan, "Dylan, you have to run."  
"What-n-no," Dylan stammered, "we have to-to help mom and-"

"DYLAN," his father yelled, "you have to leave otherwise I'll kill you…please go."  
His son stood there with the neon green and black in his arms, "I SAID GO!"

Startled by the ton his father was using he did, he put on his slip on shoes and ran. Past the rode, past the park, all the way into the dark forest; by the time he had stopped he had stopped he couldn't tell which way was back home. He didn't even know where north was-let alone south, east or west. All there was- was just trees-endless trees.

The scare boy fell to his knees and before he knew it-he was crying.

He was alone.

He was alone in the dark; his father ordered him to leave and never look back. He said he'd kill him. His mother tried to murder him-her eyes were as dark as the night-they didn't is recognize him.

_What the hell just happened? What happened to my parents…what-who are they?_ Those questions swirled in his head repeating a never ending cycle of wonder.

"Get up," a familiar voice said.

Dylan looked up, "Who's there?"

"It's me you idiot." Miriam said as she exited the shadows, the blonde girl grabbed his arm and stood him up, "Stop crying and start walking."  
"M-Miri," he wondered, "what are you-how did you-"

"I'm a witch-I have my ways." She said but those words didn't seem to reach him, "Get to the church-I'll go distract them."

"Distract who," The dark brown haired boy wondered.

"It doesn't matter," Miriam dismissed, "just remember whatever happens-what ever you hear-don't look behind you, and if you value your life-don't ever come back."  
"But what about you," Dylan shouted as his babysitter, "what do I do if something happens to you?"

She gave him a reassuring smile, "Don't worry about me Dylan-I'm not important, you are. You are one of the most important people to walk this planet."  
"But-"

"But nothing Dylan," Miri interrupted, "just find them. You'll know who they are as soon as you meet them."  
Miri ran off again into the gloomy woods but Dylan just stood there shocked.

For a moment he wanted to see her come back laughing and calling him all of the obscenities she used to call him. But she never came back, and he was alone once again. So he ran just like he did when he ran away from home. He ran and ran and didn't look back. He wasn't sure what he heard-screams, yells, death. But Dylan did as he was told-run and don't look back.

Making it to a street he didn't even bother looking both ways-just get to the church…or at least that's what Miri-

But then the lights came out of nowhere and they hit him. It happened so fast he couldn't even say what kind of car it was. All he knew was just that…it happened and it hurt like the devil.

When the ground came into the view all he could do was lay there lifelessly as the whole world spun around him like a roller coaster. The feeling was almost like a sick high that he couldn't come down from. It helped the pain from everyone other part of his body fade as the pain in his head.

"Oh my God-Dean," A voice said as a car door slammed shut, "You hit a kid! A kid,"  
"I didn't know! He just came out of nowhere!" Dean pointed out as he closed his door. The boy saw him kneel down and examine him, "Hey-you're going to be ok-ok-just stay with me."  
Dylan couldn't tell what he was saying after that-Dean was just a lip moving man, and the other dark haired man behind him panicking his head off. The boy drifted in and out consciousness, first he was on the street; then in a car when he heard,

"He better not get blood on my seats."

"Oh shut up," another voice ordered.

Then it was dark again and the voices ceased once more.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

When Dylan finally started coming around he actually didn't feel so bad-sure half of his body felt like bruise and his head was currently being smashed by a sledgehammer-but slowly but surly it started to go away. Getting up was a slight task but he managed to get up.

"I'm telling you Sammy we should have put him in the hospital." Dean pointed out, "he could be bleeding out or something."

"Just one second Dean," the brother replied as he filled through a book, "that coin he was holding-where I know I've seen it before."  
"What coin?" Dean wondered, "I know he has rock salt, silver bullets, even his version of the Lore…do you think that kid could have been running from a demon?"  
"I was running because my dad told me to." Dylan informed.

Dean and Sam looked at him surprised, they glanced at each other. They didn't know what to say-the kid that Dean had hit at 60 miles per hour was standing without a care in the world. Last night he could barely move-let alone speak and now he's standing with a few bruises and cuts. What the hell is this kid?

"W-why did he tell you to run?" Dean wondered.

The boy shrugged, "My mom-she had black eyes-dad said he'd kill me if I had stayed."  
Demons

The words rang in the Winchester boys' heads. Demons forced this kid out of home and took over his parents. The question is why his parents-and how long has he parent's been demons?  
Sam stood up and went over to the kid-knowing that Dean isn't exactly good with kids.

"Hey…uh before you left-did you smell anything weird like sulfur or-"

"My house almost smells like that-mom usually bought those Febreze things to help with the odor." Dylan informed.

Dean looked around as he silently grabbed a silver knife from a table behind him, "So how long has it smelt…weird."

"For as long as I can remember," Dylan informed, "Mom and Dad's room always stank the most."  
The boy chuckled as he recalled making fun of and complaining about how annoying their room smelt. Those were the good days-even though they fought a lot-it was nice to have them there. And even though they really never listened to him-it was nice to say he had mom and dad that cared for him…at least they did anyway.

Dean gave Sam the look for 'kill it'. But the boy wasn't a demon-he wasn't human…but he wasn't a being from hell either.

Slowly the boys came to control their 'situation', Sam held on to the boy while Dean came up behind Dylan to stab him in the back and send him back to where he belongs. But right before he did-Dylan knew something was up. He didn't know where to go-Sam held him in place. So he though of the place where Miriam told him to go-the church, he remembered the street sign right before he passed out.

And then-the feeling of flying soared through him.

It was like being lightning, he was going so fast and felt like he was about to explode. It was like a rollercoaster that was going a million miles per hour and the rush just made him smile. And then it was the falling-the uncertainty of where he was going to land just made him want to go faster. How long has it been? Seconds, minutes, years? It's like an eternity but going in fast forward-blurring by your eyes so quick you barely recognize it's going past you.

Then once he finally landed the dark haired man appeared beside him. The look in his matched the fear and amazement in Dylan's. Sam took his hands off of Dylan's shoulders and stumbled backwards. His mind was still trying to adjust to what just happened.

"Y-you're," he began, "y-ou're a-an angel."

"No…" Dylan replied, "the man in the trench coat is though."  
"What,"

"The man in the trench coat," Dylan repeated.

"You mean me?" A deep voice wondered.

A name surfaced in the child's memory-C..Cas..Casty..Castiel! That's his name!

"Castiel," the boy said with a smile on his face, "Castiel-you're the man the trench coat!"

**Hello again-I hope you enjoyed it. I had a blast writing it and I can't wait to go further with it. So comment, like, follow if you want. I'll see you guys later-and remember-stay awesome my friends-cupcakekiller12**


	2. One More Miracle

**Hey! Welcome back! Another chapter...so I still haven't really decided if this is just going to be like in between seasons of is going to go along with the story. All I know is that it's not going to be in seasons 1-6. So yeah...sorry. And *disclaimer* I don't own anything related to Supernatural or the CW-I only own my OC's. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the read. I'll see you at the end of the chapter-cupcakekiller12**

"Castiel," the boy repeated, "you're the angel that I saw in the park!"  
Castiel and Sam looked at each other for a moment. The angel's eyes withheld his thoughts on the matter but really he was curious-not angry-but curious on how the boy knew his name. The boy didn't look like an angel-typically angels chose older vessels; not nine year old kids who barely know what their doing.

Sam on the hand couldn't help but show he confused look. He looked Castiel and then at Dylan, "You know him?"  
"No," Cas replied.

Neither did Dylan.

The only thing he knew was this angel's name, nothing more-nothing less. In fact Dylan had never seen this man before in his life besides at the park. But how did he know his name-an angel's name…it's like the name had been buried in dust for millions year and just now he had dusted off the cobwebs. The funny thing is though, the name made him smile-like being reunited with an old friend.

Then Sam looked at Dylan, "How do you know him?"

The dark brown headed child shrugged, "I saw him at the park."  
"And…" Sam continued for the boy.

"I saw his wings in the light." Dylan informed with a smile.

The angel wasn't stunned by that fact. He already knew that a few mortals could see him for what he truly was and typically those special few stay their distance away. Angels that are on Earth are there for a reason and humans' distracting them is mostly a bad idea. But this kid didn't see problem with talking to Castiel-no awkwardness or uneasiness.

It was actually kind of cute.

Castiel looked at the demon hunter, "You alright Sam?"

He nodded, "Yeah…I'm fine Cas."  
Then the angel looked at the boy, "Who are you?"

"I'm Dylan," the young boy replied, "Dylan Young,"

Being a kid he easily brushed off the fact that Castiel was an angel and Sam tried to kill him. It was almost scary that he didn't seem to care. It seemed that he was used to switching topics at ease.

Dylan walked over to one of the churches windows, since he wasn't full grown yet he stood on his tippy-toes and put his elbows on the edging of the window. He looked outside to see a beautiful sunrise with reds, oranges, the beginnings of blue to symbolize the day.

"It's nice scene." Dylan informed.

But for some reason he knew it wasn't the best he's seen before-but what was that sight that made his heart speed up and made the smile on his face grow. What was the sight that made him cheerful? He couldn't think of what it was but for some reason watching the sun rise here made him think of it.

Then a phone rang.

It made everyone jump, the silence in the small church made everyone comfortable, and strangely at peace. No surprise that it was Dean Winchester calling his brother. Dean always had felt responsible for his brother Sam. He's sold his soul, came back from hell-several times-what else-oh right, he saved his brother from hell. And in those times he's never quite caught a break.

"I'm fine Dean," Sam said to the mic of his phone, "I'm at some church-yeah Cas is here-and Dylan-yes Dean that's his name..." as he listened to his brother Sam turned his back on Cas and talked in a whispering tone, "he's not a demon, Dean…he's…something else…yeah like Cas-we're fine-"

"I'm not too sure about that," Dylan informed as he glanced back at the two men, "they're here."

"Who's here?" Castiel wondered as he stepped near the window.

"The black-eyed people," the boy said calmly, "their right across the street."

The truth was that Dylan was scared. He could hear his heart beat faster as a paralyzing spike of fear rose up and down his back. The pervious events from last night flashed before his eyes.

His mother's devilish, possessed, cold, harsh, eyes that would even make the most fearless man turn away at the mention of them. But that wasn't what scared the Dylan the most…it was not being able to know what to do. It's the feeling of unknowing…he's lived with these people for almost nine years. They have loved him, cherished him, swore to protect him-and now…they're broke all of their promises.

Their promise to catch him when he falls

To make him feel loved when he is alone

To pick him when he is down

To protect him even when he isn't safe

All of those promises his parents broke and now he's alone with two people who barely know him and a man who tried to kill him. Who is he supposed to trust now? An angel whom he has known for who knows how long-what is he supposed to do? Where is he supposed to go? Who will look after him now?  
While he thought about this Castiel and Sam came up with a plan-which in the back the child's mind for some reason he know that it wouldn't work-that these demons or whatever Sam was saying. They were going to die-but what was he supposed to do?

"Alright, Dylan, I need you to stay here." Sam informed crouched over to look in Dylan's crystal blue eyes, "It's going to be safe in here."

_No it's not-it's just as bad out as it is in here!_ Dylan wanted to scream, _Don't leave-stay in here. _

But he remained silent and reluctantly nodded and looked away from Sam's eyes. That man was going to die today and nothing that angel could do could stop it. _But you can_, a small voice said to him, _you can save him. _Dylan did believe that voice somewhere deep inside…but he had no powers or way to help Sam and Castiel. All he could do was stand by and watch chaos reign.

Once Sam and Castiel left the young boy went to the large wooden door. A large part of him wanted to be out there and help them, it pushed and pulled him to open that door and help the hunters but that tiny rational part in his brain told him _no_.

He stood there with his two halves fighting for control. _I should go-but I could be killed. But then they'll be killed…and I'll be killed if I join them. I should-but I can't-I can-but I shouldn't-oh what the hell should I do? _Finally after much debate Dylan cracked open the doors of the church and peeked outside, _just a peek won't hurt anyone…right?_

Wrong

So wrong

Outside a war brewing, one side of angels and humans-the other of demons from the inner circle of hell. Which one would win…it looks like the soulless creatures possessing meat bags are winning. Rage burned within the boy as well with fear and anticipation-then a cry of pain came from Sam.

"SAM," Dean yelled.

Oh there's Dean.

Castiel…not sure where he is though…

Dean ran to his brother and shook him, "Sam…come on Sammy-wake up, Sam!"

_No…no he can't die…_

There must be something he can do. Yell and distract them-what else could he do? Dylan was just a child-he couldn't save anyone. _But you can_, that little voice said again, _help them-it'll be like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it-you just get rusty._

Before the boy knew it he ran out and like as if the soulless being knew he was going to do that they retracted their focus from Dean and the currently unconscious Sam. The man, Diego, the look he gave Dylan almost seemed break him. Dylan knew his father very well-he'd take him to the park, the movies, walk him to school. He'd talk to him before he even would talk to his mother. It hurt him like a knife in the heart. It was like remembering meeting a deceased friend.

You remember all the great times you had together and the laughs and tears. You remember the funny looks they'd give you; all the bad ideas you had together. The secrets and the promises make you remember that the world lost a prized player and you know that there is no way to bring them back.

As Dylan's father started walking towards him a soft pain started in Dylan's head.

It started soft an un-alarming but then grew to mass proportions

The pain was like lava pouring into a crack in his skull little by little. Then a fire started in one corner and like a baby taking its first steps began to spread-almost as if it were being careful. Next his knees began to fail and as they hit the pavement it was like TNT and C4 were implanted in his head and were beginning to explode and send chucks of pink flesh all over the pavement.

And then as if it never happened, the explosive ache went away.

But Dylan wasn't the same.

His blue eyes glowed as if lights were implanted in them. He stood up slightly straighter in his posture and his face went from worried to completely unreadable.

Dylan knew something was up but to him he felt like he was underwater. He could see a distorted view of everything around him but the emotions he was feeling weren't his, so many thoughts that he didn't think. So many stories that didn't belong to him…so many tears, smiles, laughter, all of them he could see but he couldn't reach out and touch.

Then there were specific memories, ones of sad…miserable kids…ones of a father trying to get revenge for what something did to his-family…wife-Dylan couldn't tell. Then there was images of boys looking after each other, he could feel their family bond and their vows to look over each other.

Outside of his mind Dylan was taking care of his so called 'parents.'

Subconsciously he had set up a ward around him and his parents; it was a heavenly light blue flame that rose just barely above his knees. Next a pentagram was made and several symbols that were even mysterious to the Winchesters'. The dark haired boy took several calm steps towards his father who was now on his knees. The fathers shaggy hair hung in his soulless eyes.

"Please," a mixed voice pleaded, "help me."  
"That's my job isn't it?" Dylan said but it was only one voice-his.

Dylan placed his hand on the man's forehead, "Forgiveness comes in small doses-remember that."

The boy took a deep breath and whispered words unknown to Dean or the demon. All they knew is that the wind started to pick up and it swirled around the circle like stand still tornado. It kept going faster and faster picking dirt, leafs, pine needles, anything that could lifted with ease.

Energy pulsated through the wind like heat in the day. Anyone near by could feel it pulse around them and swirl to the shape of the wind. Then there was…what felt like…souls rushing, dancing, free once more without a vessel. But as that free flying feeling surrounded them; a dark intense, burning yet frigid sense emitting from the ground instilled the fear that Dean had almost came over.

It was like as if hell was claiming back a soul it had so rightfully deserved. The cold hands of death and the scorching hands of the devil both laid claim to whatever hung in the meat suite's body. They dragged them back to Hell or where ever they came from and released the mortal shell of carrying the burden of a demonic soul.

Finally everything went to normal…or as normal as it could be. The ruins faded away and both Diego and his play wife laid on the floor unconscious. Dylan stood there with tears in his glowing blue, angelic eyes.

He had to erase them.

Erase all memories of him, what kind of family they were-he had to wipe the feeling love towards him and replace them with that they were in a coma. He had to heal them and make whole again. He had to feel their brokenness and despair when the demon left him. He had to put a wall up between them and reality.

Now they're just people.

They're people.

Not his parents.

Not friends

Just people,

Dylan wanted them to remember him but forcing them to remember all the horrible things. All that time they weren't in control…it would hurt him more to see them helpless and lost then forgetful and smiling.

More tears streamed down his face as he slowly walked towards Dean and Sam. Once he reached them he collapsed his knees and looked at the brothers. The boy was breathing heavier now, exhausted by what he did. His shaking hand reached out towards Sam.

"One last miracle…" he whispered.

Dylan's hand grazed Sam's cheek; the unconscious man cringed with pain, his breath intakes became sharp and shallow. But all of the scarlet liquid dripping and drying on his face and body, all of the blue, black, and purple bruises started to fade into perfect clear skin.

The younger brother opened his eyes just Dylan's began to close.

"D-Dylan," he stammered just as the boy faded.

Once his head hit the ground Sam had been released from Deans embrace and had his hands on Dylan's arm.

The boy had saved him-and looking towards the couple lying in the emerald green grass. They were in the same state as he was, passed out.

"What did he do to them?" Sam wondered.

"I don't know." Dean replied as he cautiously went to go check on the recently de-possessed meat suits. He poked their skin with his silver knife and then flicked them with holy water. There was no burning of flesh or smoke coming off of their bodies. They both were normal-totally human.

Suddenly the fake couple began to stir, they began to move in short and slight movements. Diego was first to wake up and there was a slight of confusion and pure panic. He didn't know where he was, every time he tried to think back all he pulled up were blanks.

"W-where am I?" He stammered, "W-who the hell are you guys?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other and sighed. The man didn't remember anything…which considering what happened, it's a good thing. Hangover-no passed out-no…coma?

"I'm Special Agent Millson," Dean informed, "this is my partner Special Agent Smith…you've just woken up from a coma."

"Then how did I get here?"

"You woke up and had a panic attack." Sam summarized, "You passed out here and we found you ok-just stay calm."

Calm

The only word that the world didn't seem to know,  
Between demons walking the Earth, God missing, angels going insane-to Lucifer and Michael having brother issues. Then there has been missing souls, purgatory being opened, Leviathans being released. Death and life bending the rules to save a couple of hunters and a few angels and others along the way, there has been finger pointing, name calling, lots of dying.

Calm doesn't seem like the right word to describe the world.

Bipolar

Unbalanced

Insane

Lost

No…it's a world of misery and no promises. There are no go-backs, fast forwards, or rewinds. It's either you get it right the first time or you do it and you regret it. And no matter what you do…it still hurts.

**And here we are at the end of it all. I hope you liked it-I enjoyed writing it like I always do. So review and follow if you want-nobody is forcing you to do so. So till the next time-stay awesome my friends-cupcakekiller12**


	3. Blood Doesn't Bind Us Together

**Hey guys! What's up-long time no see. Sorry I haven't updated in a while-I've been busy with other stories and other things too. A reminder-I don't own anything from Supernatural-the only thing I own are my '. I hope I can update sooner but I can't promise anything so don't hate me please if a month or so goes by and there is no update. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the read-**

The house was slightly dirtied; there was dust on the ending of the ceiling and cobwebs forming in the corners. Even the furniture has a coating of grey substance and every time it was cleaned it comes back even quicker. The only thing that didn't seem unused was the beds, the dining table and the couch. But it didn't matter, currently there are only two people living there, two boys.

An older brother-12 maybe 13 years old, he has short brown hair and in the right light beautiful green eyes. His name is Dean Winchester, and looks after his younger brother. Mostly he feeds him lies-but he knows the truth. There are such things as monsters under the bed and in his closet. There are vampires, ghosts, and demons…but he didn't want to scare his brother-it was his job to look after him.

His younger brother is four years younger then him and to be honest doesn't understand what the hell Dean has to put up with. But Dean doesn't seem to mind looking after him-well he does it's just that he does it because he's already lost his mother. Now he's losing his father little by little, so given the chance to protect his little brother, Sam, he accepted.

Sam was sleeping; Dean sat on the bed across from him just boredly watching him. Their father had left on another one of his 'hunts'. Their father always says 'it's only going to be a day or so', but a day turns into two days, and two days turns into three. Then a whole week has gone back and his kids don't even know that he's alive. Finally after a week and a half of radio silence, he comes back scars and all.

What Sam dreamed about was that moment-his father coming home…but when he opened his eyes-it wasn't his eyes. Sure they were the same color, same curiosity but a different personality.

"Dean," he said curiously.

"Hey Sam," Dean smiled as he stood up.

"Is dad home yet?" The young brother wondered but was startled at his words as if they weren't his own.

The smile faded away from the older brother's face, "I told you not to ask about it." Dean looked away guilt ridden, he didn't want to lie to his baby brother but it was the only way to protect him.

"When is he coming home?" Sam wondered, again confused at the sound of hearing his voice and words.

"I said don't ask about." Dean ordered again, "He'll come home when he comes home alright!"

Sam took a deep breath and looked away, "He's been away for two days already-"

"And he's gonna come back, Sam," his older brother assured, "Now stopped worrying about it and come eat your breakfast."

Giving up on trying getting the truth out his older brother he sat up and then walked to the kitchen.

The boys didn't have much to choose from, there was a half box of Fruit Loops, four slices of bread that Dean was saving for lunch, and three eggs. So, it's not like they had to debate for very long about what to eat.

"What'ca what," the big brother wondered.

"Fruit Loops I guess…" Sam replied.

Still Sam was baffled by his own words-it was like he was there but he wasn't in the control. It's like same is saying the words but something else is watching through his eyes. Sam didn't really notice or seem to care; but the thing that was watching through his eyes was confused.

Without complaint the older brother fetched the red box and poured the multicolored rings of cereal. As they ate the other mind that had hitched a ride finally remembered who it was…Dylan-Dylan Young, not Sam Winchester. He doesn't have a brother name Dean-he doesn't even have any siblings…so what the hell is he doing in Sam's body?

"I wish mom was here…" Sam informed.

_You have no idea, _his brother thought to himself as he thought back to that night.

…

Mary held her six month old son in her arms. She slowly rocked him back and forth as she hummed a song. It was an old song-but recent enough that the boy behind the eyes recognized it. It was 'Hey Jude,' by the Beatles.

"Hey Jude…don't make it bad…take a sad song and make it better." The sound her voice calmed the infant making the child lay still in her arms as he listened to the soft lullaby, "Remember to let her into your heart and then you can start to make it better…"

As the song continued Sam was slowly lulled into a trance like state but Dylan was wide awake and aware of everything. He couldn't really understand where he was-but he understood who he was with. Sam knew he was safe and with family so Dylan also carried that feeling.

Then he felt a soft quick kiss on his forehead and some blonde kid saying something alone the lines of, "Night Sammie,"  
Oh that must be Dean…a really young dean, innocent to the world and unknowing was what he was destined to do.

After the lights went out it was hours before someone else came-but for some reason the only thing Sam and Dylan could see was the dark ceiling. It was strangely peaceful though…well all the way up until a thick; irony liquid was poured into Sam's mouth. The baby tried to cry for help because he knew this person wasn't his father or his mother.

_Stop, _Dylan wanted to scream, _stop-go away!_

But a six month old baby was no match for a full grown man, he heard his mother walk by and ask, "John-is he hungry?"

Softly the man told her to be quiet and being tired his mother didn't bother trying to stop the man. The mom continued on her way downstairs but stops at the staircase to fix flickering light.

A slight suspicion rises in her as she hears the quiet murmurs coming from the T.V. As she slowly goes down the stairs to prevent her other son, Dean, from waking up she notices a figure passed out on the couch, that figure is man she calls her husband.

Without a second to lose to sprints upstairs and yells, "SAMMY,"

But Dylan didn't get to see the last of what happened the night, he opened his blue eyes to another room he didn't recognize.  
It was a dorm room, a college dorm room maybe. The shower was on, some lights are shining-he was laying down listening to water run in the bathroom behind him. Someone must be taking a shower-a roommate perhaps a friend? Dylan was still trying to piece together why he would be in a college dorm room and why how he got here in the first place. The only thing he knew was that he was taking a ride with Sam through his memories. But which memory was this?  
Suddenly as Sam closed his eyes, a scarlet liquid dripped onto his head. The young man opened his eyes surprised and struggled to stay calm, "NO," he screamed as the whole world caught on fire.

**OOOO**

Dylan gasped awake, his heart raced in his chest as sweat drenched his skin. He could barely breathe; he still felt Sam's panic and uncontrollable fear. The image of Sam's girlfriend burning on the ceiling was stuck on his mind and refused to be forgotten. Dylan could still feel the flames heat lick his skin and explore the room as…Jessica-was that her name…as Jessica's bloodied body was engulfed and surrounded by the head and the growing fire.

The boy's was spinning as he tried to cling to one reality and not the memory. But every time he tried to rip his mind and separate himself from Sam he just pulled in deeper. The chains that locked him in to the memory became tighter and tighter, and the lock wouldn't break. As the ropes that were tied around his neck started suffocate him, it slowly relaxed, easing him into an eerie calm state.

Breathing slowly, he laid back down in the stiff bed he woke up in and stared at the ceiling once more. There was no lady up there and no one was on fire. There was no dark man in shadows or orange flames creeping around the room. Everything was normal-was he back in his own time? Was he him again?  
Quickly standing up went to door and carefully opened it, where was he? Had Sam and Dean carried him here when he passed out? How long was he asleep for? Fog clouded his memory; all he could remember was what he had seen in his dreams…or someone else's nightmare.

Dean was asleep on the couch; his half drunk beer was still in his hand and threatening to dance over the edge of the couch and crash on to the floor. The T.V was on; the people on the screen talked softly, lulling the green eyed man deeper and deeper into a much needed rest.

Quietly Dylan tiptoed into the large room a little bit further trying not to awaken Dean. But he didn't run away from him, in fact he got closer to examine him. He looked so tired, so exhausted, but it seemed that he never seemed to acknowledge that tiredness. He always needed to stay awake, protect his little brother; that was the only thing he wanted to do. The young boy took the dark glass from the sleeping man's hand and placed it on the table. _He must be cold, _Dylan thought himself and without even thinking a blanket appeared in his hand and he was throwing it on the sleeping man. Dean almost looked peaceful sleeping there, as though there was nothing that he had to worry. No apocalypse to worry about it, no one to protect in his dreams, just blissful sleep.

Suddenly the door began to open, "There is nothing physically wrong with Dylan," Castiel informed as he walked in with Sam. He was wearing his usual outfit, a suit and trench coat. Even though Dylan couldn't place the memory, but a warm feeling came over him, like as if he were watching his son taking his first steps. Wait…what-no-no, he wasn't even nine yet, he couldn't be a father-he didn't even have a father. A real father…who was he father-his real dad, "I can't heal him,"

"I'm fine," Dylan said quietly so not to wake Dean. He was so calm and at peace with the world. There was even a certain glow around him, one of pure happiness that infected everyone with just joy and calmed their nerves. Sam could tell, his worried heart began to lighten. Castiel was indifferent; he felt no change in the atmosphere unlike Sam.

The dark haired boy with crystal blue eyes looked at them with curiosity. He didn't feel threatened or under siege, in fact he felt at home, with family and friends. The boy walked to kitchen, opened the dinky white fridge and took a small box of juice. Sam had bought a few of them while Dylan was asleep, as with a couple of Lunchables because all him and his brother eat is junk food and drink cheap beer. Their kid wouldn't have to go through life with drunken parents.

_Theirs…_the word almost scared the Winchesters. They didn't have the 'perfect' childhood by any means or stretch of the imagination. Their father in some ways abused them, trained them and raised them as soldiers and warriors. Instead of learning cursive and doing home like 'normal' kids, they were taught how to melt silver into bullet and shoot shotguns with rock salt. How could they expect themselves to look after a kid when their father never even set an example for them?

Dylan didn't seem to mind. He had complete faith in the Winchesters. But then again he wasn't even a teenager yet-most kids around his age don't question their parents as much as they should.

"D-Dylan," Sam said unsurely, "you're awake?"

He nodded as he stuck the straw in the green container filled with a sweet apple liquid. But before he started sipping he held a finger to his pale red lips and quietly shushed as he pointed to Dean who was still sound asleep on the couch. Sam looked in the general direction and made an 'oh' look with his face before nodded and looking at Castiel, "Cas-uh-be quiet, Dean's sleeping."

Castiel nodded but didn't reply.

"So-uh-Dylan," Sam said quietly as he looked around, "what do you remember about…well before you passed out?"

Those words sent him into a daze; he didn't remember exactly what happened. He recalled a feeling similar to being in a trance. He knew what he was did-but he couldn't remember how or why. But the one thing he did remember was hearing so many voices, so many sad voices pleading him to do things, so many things. Half of what the voice said he couldn't remember or understand-well at the moment they did but now…it's like gibberish.

"No," the boy replied, he technically wasn't lying, he didn't remember all of it, but that doesn't mean he forgot everything, "I just know I don't have a family anymore." The blue eyed boy didn't want to believe his own words. He wanted this all to be a bad dream and at one point he'll be shaken awake by his dad and then he'll go to school and meet his friends.

Sam placed his hand on the boys shoulder, he could relate to how he was feeling. He had lost his mom, dad, and all of the girls he ever fell in love with. Most of his friends have been killed too…let's just say that if you're hanging around the Winchester's-there is a high chance of dying,

"Yeah…I know how you feel." Sam said.

Dylan nodded, he would have mentioned Mary or Jess-but he didn't exactly know how to bring it up. 'I saw your girlfriend being killed and the night your mom died,' that wouldn't exactly fly. So to get his mind off of his dreams he looked at his cloths, they were so dirty, covered in a thin layer of mud and wrinkled beyond belief. His mother-sorry-his 'mother' wouldn't have ever let him walk out the door like this. Then without even thinking about it he was back in his old room. Still a mess from however many nights ago, a bit dusty, smelt like sulfur and flowers.

Without much speed Dylan walked over to his closet, he have much concern of what he picked-he just grabbed things and threw them in one of his father's gym bags. But he wasn't angry; he couldn't find how to be angry at how his parents left him. Because it was his fault, Dylan was the one who erased their memories. He's the one who saved their souls for damnation. It was his choice and he didn't regret it…at least he hoped he didn't.

After throwing the last item in the bag he looked around and sighed, he was going to miss this room. He was going to miss the family dinners, the baseball games his father would take him to. He'd miss the Easter egg hunts, and the Christmases spent here. He'd miss the birthdays' spent here and every night how his mother and father would kiss him goodnight and sometimes on occasion tell him a story.

"Goodbye," he whispered as if the room were alive and would talk back to him and hug him goodbye. But the things that belonged in this room-the things that lived here for so long and now…the room is just empty and lonely, "Goodbye," he repeated but no sure who or what to.

As he sighed he was back at the place he woke up in with a bag or two in tow. His blue eyes were sad as he look off somewhere in the distance. He no longer had a family-so why should he be happy?

Sam saw Dylan's face and understood how he felt. Dean knew it more though, he remembered how his father and how his mother died. He was there; but Sam saw everyone he had every love died too and sometimes he felt that it was his fault, "Hey," Sam said softly as he quickly walked over to Dylan and knelt down. He looked into the boy's depressed blue eyes on the brink of tears as his chest rose up and down trying to contain his sobs, "it's going to be ok." Lies flew off his tongue because those were the words kids wanted to hear. They wanted to hear the lie then to listen to the truth, the sad; the horrible truth of life. Sam took the young boy into his arms right before the salty tears rolled down his face. Sobs racked through Dylan as he pressed himself into the comforting arms of Sam, "You'll be ok."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

It was night outside, the stars shined brightly along with the moon that glowed behind the almost invisible clouds. Dean was still asleep, nobody had bothered him-all of them knew how he struggled to go to sleep. He always went to sleep after his brother; it was just a force of habit. So waking up on the couch in the middle of the night wasn't weird, but waking up with a blanket and a pillow was. How long had he been asleep? Why didn't anyway wake him up?

As he looked around he saw Dylan asleep on his side next to Sam. His brother hadn't yet fallen into his dreams yet, he was researching, but every few minutes or so he'd look at the boy and a tiny smile would form on his face, and then he'd go back to reading his book full of information about demons and witchcraft.

"Sam," questioned Dean, "what-why-" Sam shushed quietly as he looked down at Dylan. He looked so peaceful sleeping there, no worries, no problems-much more than Dean or Sam did when they were sleeping. Old memories haunted their dreams, along with certain demons and witches. They were ruined of a so called 'perfect' childhood-but maybe Dylan can be different, maybe they'll be the family that theirs never really was.

Whoa, whoa, whoa-wait a minute, there is no way they can take care of kid. They can barely stay alive and in one piece-let alone take care of a child who is dependant on them. But…Dean had taken care of Sam-sure he's not a perfect person-but he was the father and the mother which Sam never got to have.

"I just got him to fall asleep a few minutes ago." Sam said softly, not wanting to wake Dylan fast asleep with his softly laying on Sam's arm, "He was waiting for you to wake up." The boy couldn't hear them, he was dreaming of angels working in heaven, he saw their beautiful forms-yet how they could contain themselves in the form of their vessels. He loved how they talked-but didn't understand why they never laughed or joked, are they not capable of that?

"You should've woken me up." Dean stated.

"For what Dean," Sam pointed out, "we aren't exactly under attack or anything-besides-you could use the sleep."

"But what if we were," the older brother wondered, "how do we know that those demons that were after him aren't going to come back?" Dean had point; there were no certainties that Dylan was safe from those demons. They could be just waiting for them to be defenseless and then BAM Dylan is dead and their left to clean up the mess.

"I don't know Dean." Sam admitted, "At least the ones that were are gone now."

"But now he doesn't have a family," Dean pointed out, "we can't just leave him at a relatives house-he's got a bounty on his head!" And he has no family, Dean wanted to add, the boy wasn't safe with anyone. Not even the Winchesters, but at least they were something. They were somewhere with some food, stolen money, and a roof over his head. Maybe-_no- _a Hunter's life is no life for a kid. Sam and Dean went through that and they refuse to let anyone else go through life fearing going to sleep at night.

"What do you suggest?" Sam wondered.

"I don't know…" Dean sighed looking at the sleeping boy, "maybe we could…I don't know-take him with us. He'd be safe-we could get Cas to babysit-" Sam looked at him strangely. Dean never really liked to deal with kid. Sure-stand them and eventually become attached to them-but it took time. This-Dean barely knew the kid-met him maybe three days ago and he suddenly cares? Sam would do this-but Dean…he only babies Sam like that.

"Dean, Cas can't-"

"Then where can we put him?" Dean asked, "There isn't exactly a demon proof house we can leave him at." Hunter's don't always stay in the same place; so they can't exactly open an orphanage to look after kids who are targeted by demons. And from what they know, there aren't exactly any safe houses for hunted individuals. You run or you die, there is no in between.

Sam opened his mouth but nothing came out. He knew what Dean was saying; they've ruined so many lives before-old and young-human and inhuman. They had brought pain and suffering to almost everyone they had met. And now they had a chance, a chance to help and maybe make a real difference in life by giving this boy a home-or at least somewhere he felt he had somewhere to be.

Dylan shifted in his sleep as he nuzzled his shaggy head on Sam's arm as if to signal him that it was time to give up. Sam sighed as he gingerly picked up the sleeping boy, "Welcome to the family Dylan," he murmured as he went to go place him on his bed.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

By the time the morning sun rose Sam and Dean were already awake; while Dylan on the other hand was still blissfully asleep in his bed. His dark hair covered his eyes and was blown up and down due to his breathing. He looked rather comfortable on the motel bed, layered with thin blankets and a single pillow seemed to be the only thing he needed. Maybe a small stuffed animal-a little kid should have at least one right?

A small knock sounded at the door, "Hey kid," said Dean, "time to wake."

The boy opened his eyes halfway and looked at the man in the door and sighed as he sat up. He stretched for a few seconds while yawning. His hair was pointing out in every direction possible; it also stuck to his face with the drool that formed over night. His blue eyes looked tired and glazed as he stared the door.

"Come on," Dean stated, "breakfast is ready." The sound of food broke the boy of the trance like state he was in and slowly he got out of the bed and shuffled to the kitchen. There weren't many options; some kid's cereal, recently bought bread, a packet of ham and bologna, and some eggs in the fridge. Not exactly a buffet but it was enough for the Winchesters. Hopefully it would be good enough for Dylan-not that he that picky of an eater. The only thing he hated eating was his vegetables. Broccoli was the worst, carrots came in second, peas and corn were a close third. He preferred fruit-bananas, strawberries, grapes, and maybe a little bit of cantaloupe or some apples.

"Did you sleep well?" Dean wondered.

Dylan shrugged but did not reply. He sat down absentmindedly and stared at the table. Obviously wasn't a morning so the conversation ended there. Sam poured a glass of orange juice while Dean had a glass of milk. Dylan opted with Sam's choice and had some juice. The trio had scramble eggs and ham without any conversation.

While they got ready to leave Dean and Sam stood next to the Impala and looked at the abandoned kid who had no where else to turn, "Hey-uh…" Dean started as he looked to Sam for help.

"Dylan," Sam asked, "would you like to come with us?"

The light shined behind his eyes at the sound of those words. He had a look of disbelief on his face. They wanted him? They weren't just going to leave and forget about him like his parents? "With you," questioned Dylan not rejecting the idea at all.

"Yeah," Dean said, "on the road, helping people."

"Like my parents?" Dylan wondered, almost sad at the thought.

"Yeah," the Hunter replied.

"You won't hit me with your car again will you?" The dark haired boy joked.

The brothers chuckled as they shook their head and replied their no's. The child smiled as he jumped up and ran to hug the brothers. They were caught off guard for a moment while they adjusted to feeling of a young child hugging their waist. It was strange; they hadn't ever truly taken care of a child. Hell they were more of trained than raised-so how will they know what is right and wrong.

"I trust you." Dylan smiled as he hopped into the back of the Impala.

And it was at that moment the brothers looked at each other and for once finally agreed whole heartedly on one decision. The choice to take in Dylan could make them or break them but they would surely not give up easily.

"So," Dean wondered as he shifted the car into gear, "where to, kid?"

"I don't know." Dylan said as he looked out the window, "Anywhere with you guys I guess." He didn't have anywhere else to go. This car and these people are now his family and home. But he didn't worry about the future; he just wanted to be apart of something-mean something to someone, and have somewhere to call home. Same, Dean, and Cas when he is around, know what the boy is feeling right now. Alone, confused, deserted and with no one to around to support him-afraid.

But here they again.

On the forever winding rode.

Where they go-only the future knows.

But none of them are ever alone, because now they are family.

For better or for worse

**Hello again-so I hope you liked it. It took awhile to get past a parts and sorry if there are any mistakes or anything seems rushed. So again I'll try to update a bit more but can't promise when. So yeah...have a good one and remember-stay awesome my friends-cupcakekiller12**


End file.
